


Take It Slow

by spicedrobot



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Asexual Character, Awkward Sexual Situations, M/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Spoilers, Strap-Ons, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, just in case, this is ...soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25021333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spicedrobot/pseuds/spicedrobot
Summary: Jon's never really beenintimatewith anyone before, but for Martin, he's willing to try.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 228





	Take It Slow

**Author's Note:**

> **Tumblr Prompt:** licherally anything with michael or martin getting his [REDACTED] pounded
> 
>  **Notes:** Jon and Martin are both trans. I wrote this somewhat based on my experience as a panromantic (a first!) so I hope y'all enjoy! :')

Jon’s never done this before, not really. His past relationships had been mostly platonic. Anything more tended to be...awkward, to put it mildly. 

It comes as a surprise, then, when Martin asks and Jon says yes. They had talked about it, a bit awkward, but not as awkward as Jon thought it would be. He hadn’t exactly disliked listening to Martin stumble through the things he’d like to do with Jon...would like to do _to_ Jon. They decided to take it slow, feel out what was most comfortable and stop when it wasn't.

Touching. Holding hands had been their first contact, a thing of desperate comfort before it became something more. He never tires of Martin’s hugs: safe and warm and soft, especially when Martin pets his hair, cards his nails along his scalp. It makes him feel like he could sleep again. It makes him feel human again.

Kissing. One of Jon's new favorite activities. As bespectacled and soft-spoken as Martin is, Jon’d never thought he’d be so damn good at it. The soft, eager presses he offers so freely reduce Jon to a breathless, blushing mess in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Each kiss feels so genuine, sweet and lost to time until it deepens, becomes hotter, sloppier, needier. He’d never felt wanted in the way Martin makes him feel wanted, a large, soft hand cupping the back of his neck, a slip of tongue, a nip of teeth. It all feels so _close_. The first time Martin had drawn away to catch his breath, pupils large and dark, freckles stark from blushing and a small, shy smile on his lips, Jon had never wanted anyone more.

Sex. Anything more intimate is usually led by Jon. Touching Martin’s body, watching him shiver and hum as Jon traced his shoulders and collarbones, drinking in his soft gasps when he kneads his chest, soft and furred beneath his hands. His flanks are delightfully ticklish, and though Martin protests, it doesn’t stop Jon from teasing him once in a while just to hear his begging laughter.

It had been surprisingly easy figuring out how to pleasure Martin. They are similar here at least, though Martin’s cock is a little bigger, and he likes being penetrated where Jon doesn’t. Fingering Martin to orgasm while drawing his thumb over his cock again and again had a particular sort of satisfaction. Martin twisting and squirming, body splotchy and trembling, whining when Jon teased too much. When Jon felt less like teasing, he sucked him off, Martin’s thighs shaking and clenching around his temples, making him dizzy and tingling and wanting with little more than a hand in his hair and Jon’s name on his lips.

Now, Jon is, yet again, out of his element, but Martin is, as always, much kinder about it than he deserves. Martin had even picked out the toy: shockingly realistic, not that Jon had a frame of reference for such things. The harness itself is unassuming, hardly different from a standard pair of boxer briefs, if a bit short in the thigh. Martin helps him get everything in place, and Jon is silently grateful.

“Anything pinching?”

“No, it’s...comfortable.” Jon slides his hands to his hips. “How do I look?”

Martin’s glasses fall off with the speed of his once-over. He scrambles to put them back on.

“Y-you look really, really good.”

Martin presses a kiss to his forehead, the tip of his nose, his mouth, and Jon melts into it. Their lips meet, comfortable, familiar, hungry. Martin pulls Jon back onto the mattress with him, and Jon half moans, half laughs against his lips.

“I’m excited, okay?” Martin murmurs.

“Yes, I can see that.”

Another kiss. Martin leads Jon's hands with his, touching Martin's body, cupping his chest, teasing down his soft stomach, warm like a fever and just as flushed. Martin arches into his hand as soon as he gets it between his legs. His cock is already swollen, beneath just beginning to trickle.

Jon grabs the bottle of lube next to them, warms the liquid between his fingers before he returns his hand to Martin. He wants to tease, and Martin lets him, even though Jon knows how much he’s waiting for more, sweat shining upon his skin, voice high and fluttery as he strokes Martin’s cock with wet, slippery fingers. When he finally presses one inside, he's met with little resistance, only a desperate clench and a throaty moan tumbling from Martin's lips.

"Jon...please..."

"’Please’ what? I'm not a mind reader, Martin."

Martin gives him a pointed look.

"Well, I—you know what I mean," Jon grimaces. "Use your words."

"Right, fine." A pause. "R-rub against me? With your dick." Martin squeaks the last part, and it takes Jon a moment to realize what he's asking for.

Jon touches the toy attached to the harness, smoothing fingers, lubed and slick, along its length. Average in size, nearly matching the color of his skin. He shivers. Jon doesn't need Martin to repeat himself, the jolt of his own hips shocking him. The toy slides along Martin's cock, and Martin throws his head back with a swear.

"Y-yes, like that."

It feels natural, an instinctive roll of his hips, a satisfying grind; Martin arches into each thrust, keeping Jon close. Martin's hands find Jon's waist, holding on, leading him quicker, faster, breath racing and pitched high and Jon knows what that means in a secret, exhilarating rush.

"Do you want to...like this?"

Martin's face twists, indecision in every line. Jon wants to kiss him senseless.

"N-no," Martin mumbles. "Can you...fuck me now?"

"I was under the impression I was already doing that."

Martin gives his arm a soft smack.

"Jon."

"Yes, Martin."

"Please."

Jon leans forward to kiss him, soft and quick. Then Martin's hands are between them, gripping the base of the toy, angling it properly against his body.

"Slowly, at first."

"Of course," Jon replies softly.

Watching Martin take him inch by inch is something he never knew he'd enjoy. Martin grips Jon’s forearms tightly, his mouth hanging open in a soft little 'o' as Jon slides inside him.

" _Damn_ —" Martin whines.

"Is it okay?"

“Y-yeah. Just…” Martin’s hand slides over his cock, sighs shakily. "I'm about to..."

"Oh. _Oh_. Right. I'll keep moving then?"

"Please."

Jon begins to withdraw, eyes locked on Martin's face, watching each expression, each gasp and twitch and whimper, the beads of sweat that shine on his temples as he begins to find rhythm. Jon’s surprised that Martin’s letting him stare to his fill. He knows the way he watches can be..a lot. He wants to blame it on the Eye, but Jon knows that’s not quite true.

“Just a little...faster...Yeah, like that, Jon—”

He savors each second, watching Martin come undone on his cock. There is an energy to it, the tightness in his hips and the ache between his own legs so impressively distant as Martin’s whole body draws taut and flexes, as his voice breaks on a high note and goes silent, his hand still moving sluggishly between them. Jon can’t get enough.

Jon lowers himself for a closer look, chest to chest, still buried inside him. He kisses Martin's cheek, watches his eyelashes flutter as Martin catches his breath and comes back to him.

“An adequate performance?” Jon says, just short of breathless. 

“Mm,” Martin murmurs. 

He brushes his nose against Jon’s cheek, and Jon catches his lips, slow and easy. 

“If you’re still up for it, I wouldn’t mind...going again? I, uh, want to try riding you.”

“Yeah,” Jon says, before he’s even thought about it. “I can do that.”

Martin smiles, tired but soft, and then he’s moving like he hadn’t just come a minute prior. Jon’s laughter is interrupted by his back hitting the mattress with a soft _thump_ , momentarily stunned as Martin slips on top of him with a look that's downright devious.

Jon’s never done this before, but he thinks he could definitely get used to it.


End file.
